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"You'll
not get back till late. Perhaps you'd better stay all night with some of
the girls that live near the ferry-landing, child."
"Then
I'll stay with Susy Harper, mamma."
"Very
well. And mind and behave yourself and don't be any trouble."
Presently,
as they tripped along, Tom said to Becky:
"Say
-- I'll tell you what we'll do. 'Stead of going to Joe Harper's we'll
climb right up the hill and stop at the Widow Douglas'. She'll have
ice-cream! She has it most every day -- dead loads of it. And she'll be
awful glad to have us."
"Oh,
that will be fun!"
Then
Becky reflected a moment and said:
"But
what will mamma say?"
"How'll
she ever know?"
The
girl turned the idea over in her mind, and said reluctantly:
"I
reckon it's wrong -- but --"
"But
shucks! Your mother won't know, and so what's the harm? All she wants is
that you'll be safe; and I bet you she'd 'a' said go there if she'd 'a'
thought of it. I know she would!"
The
Widow Douglas' splendid hospitality was a tempting bait. It and Tom's
persuasions presently carried the day. So it was decided to say nothing
anybody about the night's programme. Presently it occurred to Tom that
maybe Huck might come this very night and give the signal. The thought
took a deal of the spirit out of his anticipations. Still he could not
bear to give up the fun at Widow Douglas'. And why should he give it up,
he reasoned -- the signal did not come the night before, so why should it
be any more likely to come to-night? The sure fun of the evening
outweighed the uncertain treasure; and, boylike, he determined to yield to
the stronger inclination and not allow himself to think of the box of
money another time that day.
Three
miles below town the ferryboat stopped at the mouth of a woody hollow and
tied up. The crowd swarmed ashore and soon the forest distances and craggy
heights echoed far and near with shoutings and laughter. All the different
ways of getting hot and tired were gone through with, and by-and-by the
rovers straggled back to camp fortified with responsible appetites, and
then the destruction of the good things began. After the feast there was a
refreshing season of rest and chat in the shade of spreading oaks. Byand-by
somebody shouted:
"Who's
ready for the cave?"
Everybody
was. Bundles of candles were procured, and straightway there was a general
scamper up the hill. The mouth of the cave was up the hillside -- an
opening shaped like a letter A. Its massive oaken door stood unbarred.
Within was a small chamber, chilly as an ice-house, and walled by Nature
with solid limestone that was dewy with a cold sweat. It was romantic and
mysterious to stand here in the deep gloom and look out upon the green
valley shining in the sun. But the impressiveness of the situation quickly
wore off, and the romping began again. The moment a candle was lighted
there was a general rush upon the owner of it; a struggle and a gallant
defence followed, but the candle was soon knocked down or blown out, and
then there was a glad clamor of laughter and a new chase. But all things
have an end. By-andby the procession went filing down the steep descent of
the main avenue, the flickering rank of lights dimly revealing the lofty
walls of rock almost to their point of junction sixty feet overhead. This
main avenue was not more than eight or ten feet wide. Every few steps
other lofty and still narrower crevices branched from it on either hand --
for McDougal's cave was but a vast labyrinth of crooked aisles that ran
into each other and out again and led nowhere. It was said that one might
wander days and nights together through its intricate tangle of rifts and
chasms, and never find the end of the cave; and that he might go down, and
down, and still down, into the earth, and it was just the same --
labyrinth under labyrinth, and no end to any of them. No man
"knew" the cave. That was an impossible thing. Most of the young
men knew a portion of it, and it was not customary to venture much beyond
this known portion. Tom Sawyer knew as much of the cave as any one.
The
procession moved along the main avenue some three-quarters of a mile, and
then groups and couples began to slip aside into branch avenues, fly along
the dismal corridors, and take each other by surprise at points where the
corridors joined again. Parties were able to elude each other for the
space of half an hour without going beyond the "known" ground.
By-and-by,
one group after another came straggling back to the mouth of the cave,
panting, hilarious, smeared from head to foot with tallow drippings,
daubed with clay, and entirely delighted with the success of the day. Then
they were astonished to find that they had been taking no note of time and
that night was about at hand. The clanging bell had been calling for half
an hour. However, this sort of close to the day's adventures was romantic
and therefore satisfactory. When the ferryboat with her wild freight
pushed into the stream, nobody cared sixpence for the wasted time but the
captain of the craft.
Huck
was already upon his watch when the ferryboat's lights went glinting past
the wharf. He heard no noise on board, for the young people were as
subdued and still as people usually are who are nearly tired to death. He
wondered what boat it was, and why she did not stop at the wharf -- and
then he dropped her out of his mind and put his attention upon his
business. The night was growing cloudy and dark. Ten o'clock came, and the
noise of vehicles ceased, scattered lights began to wink out, all
straggling footpassengers disappeared, the village betook itself to its
slumbers and left the small watcher alone with the silence and the ghosts.
Eleven o'clock came, and the tavern lights were put out; darkness
everywhere, now. Huck waited what seemed a weary long time, but nothing
happened. His faith was weakening. Was there any use? Was there really any
use? Why not give it up and turn in?
A
noise fell upon his ear. He was all attention in an instant. The alley
door closed softly. He sprang to the corner of the brick store. The next
moment two men brushed by him, and one seemed to have something under his
arm. It must be that box! So they were going to remove the treasure. Why
call Tom now? It would be absurd -- the men would get away with the box
and never be found again. No, he would stick to their wake and follow
them; he would trust to the darkness for security from discovery. So
communing with himself, Huck stepped out and glided along behind the men,
cat-like, with bare feet, allowing them to keep just far enough ahead not
to be invisible.
They
moved up the river street three blocks, then turned to the left up a
cross-street. They went straight ahead, then, until they came to the path
that led up Cardiff Hill; this they took. They passed by the old
Welshman's house, half-way up the hill, without hesitating, and still
climbed upward. Good, thought Huck, they will bury it in the old quarry.
But they never stopped at the quarry. They passed on, up the summit. They
plunged into the narrow path between the tall sumach bushes, and were at
once hidden in the gloom. Huck closed up and shortened his distance, now,
for they would never be able to see him. He trotted along awhile; then
slackened his pace, fearing he was gaining too fast; moved on a piece,
then stopped altogether; listened; no sound; none, save that he seemed to
hear the beating of his own heart. The hooting of an owl came over the
hill -- ominous sound! But no footsteps. Heavens, was everything lost! He
was about to spring with winged feet, when a man cleared his throat not
four feet from him! Huck's heart shot into his throat, but he swallowed it
again; and then he stood there shaking as if a dozen agues had taken
charge of him at once, and so weak that he thought he must surely fall to
the ground. He knew where he was. He knew he was within five steps of the
stile leading into Widow Douglas' grounds. Very well, he thought, let them
bury it there; it won't be hard to find.
Now
there was a voice -- a very low voice -- Injun Joe's:
"Damn
her, maybe she's got company -- there's lights, late as it is."
"I
can't see any."
This
was that stranger's voice -- the stranger of the haunted house. A deadly
chill went to Huck's heart -- this, then, was the "revenge" job!
His thought was, to fly. Then he remembered that the Widow Douglas had
been kind to him more than once, and maybe these men were going to murder
her. He wished he dared venture to warn her; but he knew he didn't dare --
they might come and catch him. He thought all this and more in the moment
that elapsed between the stranger's remark and Injun Joe's next -- which
was --
"Because
the bush is in your way. Now -- this way -- now you see, don't you?"
"Yes.
Well, there IS company there, I reckon. Better give it up."
"Give
it up, and I just leaving this country forever! Give it up and maybe never
have another chance. I tell you again, as I've told you before, I don't
care for her swag -- you may have it. But her husband was rough on me --
many times he was rough on me -- and mainly he was the justice of the
peace that jugged me for a vagrant. And that ain't all. It ain't a
millionth part of it! He had me HORSEWHIPPED! -- horsewhipped in front of
the jail, like a nigger! -- with all the town looking on! HORSEWHIPPED! --
do you understand? He took advantage of me and died. But I'll take it out
of HER."
"Oh,
don't kill her! Don't do that!"
"Kill?
Who said anything about killing? I would kill HIM if he was here; but not
her. When you want to get revenge on a woman you don't kill her -- bosh!
you go for her looks. You slit her nostrils -- you notch her ears like a
sow!"
"By
God, that's --"
"Keep
your opinion to yourself! It will be safest for you. I'll tie her to the
bed. If she bleeds to death, is that my fault? I'll not cry, if she does.
My friend, you'll help me in this thing -- for MY sake -- that's why
you're here -- I mightn't be able alone. If you flinch, I'll kill you. Do
you understand that? And if I have to kill you, I'll kill her -- and then
I reckon nobody'll ever know much about who done this business."
"Well,
if it's got to be done, let's get at it. The quicker the better -- I'm all
in a shiver."
"Do
it NOW? And company there? Look here -- I'll get suspicious of you, first
thing you know. No -- we'll wait till the lights are out -- there's no
hurry."
Huck
felt that a silence was going to ensue -- a thing still more awful than
any amount of murderous talk; so he held his breath and stepped gingerly
back; planted his foot carefully and firmly, after balancing, one-legged,
in a precarious way and almost toppling over, first on one side and then
on the other. He took another step back, with the same elaboration and the
same risks; then another and another, and -- a twig snapped under his
foot! His breath stopped and he listened. There was no sound -- the
stillness was perfect. His gratitude was measureless. Now he turned in his
tracks, between the walls of sumach bushes -- turned himself as carefully
as if he were a ship -- and then stepped quickly but cautiously along.
When he emerged at the quarry he felt secure, and so he picked up his
nimble heels and flew. Down, down he sped, till he reached the Welshman's.
He banged at the door, and presently the heads of the old man and his two
stalwart sons were thrust from windows.
"What's
the row there? Who's banging? What do you want?"
"Let
me in -- quick! I'll tell everything."
"Why,
who are you?"
"Huckleberry
Finn -- quick, let me in!"
"Huckleberry
Finn, indeed! It ain't a name to open many doors, I judge! But let him in,
lads, and let's see what's the trouble."
"Please
don't ever tell I told you," were Huck's first words when he got in.
"Please don't -- I'd be killed, sure -- but the widow's been good
friends to me sometimes, and I want to tell -- I WILL tell if you'll
promise you won't ever say it was me."
"By
George, he HAS got something to tell, or he wouldn't act so!"
exclaimed the old man; "out with it and nobody here'll ever tell,
lad."
Three
minutes later the old man and his sons, well armed, were up the hill, and
just entering the sumach path on tiptoe, their weapons in their hands.
Huck accompanied them no further. He hid behind a great bowlder and fell
to listening. There was a lagging, anxious silence, and then all of a
sudden there was an explosion of firearms and a cry.
Huck
waited for no particulars. He sprang away and sped down the hill as fast
as his legs could carry him.
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